Epilogue
Duchess Square, London
“Uncle Bonham! Aunt Suzanna! Come quick,” little Archibald George Knight, the seven-year-old Marquess of Brent—also known as Gideon’s son—shouted over the stone wall separating their properties. “Mama’s going to have a little girl!”
Gideon ran downstairs and out into his garden to pick up his son and bring him back into the house. “Archie, we don’t know yet whether you’ll have a brother or a sister.”
“Oh, no. I am sure it is a little sister,” said his son, who looked like a miniature of himself with his dark hair and penetrating gray eyes. “I talked to her in Mama’s belly, and she said she was a girl.”
Bonham now climbed onto the wall and hopped over to Gideon’s side.
“Suzanna’s running around to the front with our Millie,” he said, referring to his daughter, who was a year younger than Archie—but you wouldn’t know it, because she was such a bright little thing.
“I thought I’d take the shortcut. Archie, your sister talked back to you? ”
The boy nodded earnestly. “I put my hand on Mama’s belly and told her to move around if she was a girl, and she did. We’re going to name her Lucinda…Lucy for short, but Papa said we would have named her Lucifer if she was a boy.”
Gideon burst out laughing. “No, I was just teasing your mama about that. Your brother may be a little devil, but he’ll have a saintly name because your mother is a saint to put up with me.”
Archie cast him a stubborn look. “But she’s going to have a little girl.”
Gideon indulged the lad. “All right, it’s to be a girl. But if it’s a boy, we are going to name him Raphael.”
“It’s to be a girl,” Millie said, breaking away from Suzanna and running toward them.
She had an impudent, upward tip of her chin as she supported Archie’s statement.
The two children were thick as thieves and always defended each other, much as Gideon and Bonham had always done for each other as children.
Gideon laughed and held up his hands in surrender, for a six-year-old girl had to be far wiser than the dense adults around her. “Fine, Millie. If you say so.”
Suzanna joined them in the garden. “Good morning.”
Archie gave her a hug. “It’s going to be a girl. Her name will be Lucy, not Lucifer. We’re naming her after my grandmother,” he said, referring to Berry’s mother, who had passed on so many years ago.
“How wonderful. Would you like to spend the day with me and Millie and Uncle Bonham? Your mama and papa are going to be quite busy and it might get dull for you around here. Perhaps we can go for ices or have a picnic in the park?”
Archie nodded.
“Good, and we ought to bring along Miss Jergens,” Suzanna said, referring to Archie’s capable governess.
“I’ll get her.” Archie ran off into the house before Gideon could countermand the plan.
Of course, he was going to do no such thing. His heart was aching with fear for Berry, who was about to deliver their second child.
“And I need my Brigid,” Millie insisted, referring to the doll Berry had created several years ago that had proven to be extremely popular, even to this day.
Gideon had wanted to name the doll after Berry, but that suggestion was not so well received.
They had ultimately settled on Brigid as a compromise, in honor of the orphanage.
Lord Berwick had been adamant that Berry’s name ought not to be used—and he was probably right, because there was still a lot of bias among the elite toward anyone in trade.
“Brigid is going to put on her ‘going out for ices’ outfit,” Millie said, tugging on Suzanna’s hand to lead her back to their house that formerly belonged to Berry.
Gideon watched them disappear next door.
“She loves that doll,” Bonham remarked.
Gideon nodded. “And the clothes. You’ve spoiled your daughter rotten. Her doll has more clothes than Millie, Suzanna, and Berry combined.” Berry had created an entire collection of clothing for the Brigid doll that little girls throughout England adored.
Bonham laughed. “I won’t deny it. Care to wager on whether Brigid and Millie will be wearing matching outfits?”
“No, that is a sucker’s bet. They are going to match, of course. As I said, you are even more of a doting father than I am, and have spoiled your daughter shamelessly.”
“I know,” Bonham admitted. “She gets everything she wants. But she has Suzanna’s intelligence and kindness, and will always be a sweet girl, even if her fool of a father is ridiculously indulgent.”
Gideon raked a hand through his hair, his humor suddenly fading. “Bonham, I hate this.”
His friend let out a long breath. “Berry’s strong. She’ll get through the delivery.”
Gideon shook his head. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her.”
“Don’t think like that or Archie will pick up on it immediately. Say no more. He’s returning with Miss Jergens.”
Bonham remained steadfast by Gideon’s side and made idle conversation to take the pressure off him while they all waited for Suzanna to return with Millie.
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Bonham quietly asked him once his wife and daughter rejoined them. “Do you want company while you wait? I’m sure Suzanna won’t mind my staying with you. She and Miss Jergens don’t need me around to amuse the children.”
“No, I’m not fit company. Go with your wife.
I prefer to deal with this waiting agony on my own.
” Gideon glanced worriedly at his bedchamber window.
“The midwife is up there now. Dr. Farthingale will stop by shortly. I’ll be mad with worry until Berry gives birth.
She had a rough time with Archie. How is she going to manage if it is another big, bruising boy? ”
Bonham patted him on the back. “She may look delicate, but she’s a fighter. Unfortunately, it is all her fight. There is nothing you can do but stay close and pray hard. Ah, I am being summoned by Suzanna. We’ll keep Archie with us overnight if that’s easier for you and Berry.”
Gideon nodded. “Much appreciated. We’ll see what happens in these next few hours.”
He ruffled his son’s hair, kept smiling as he waved them off, and then strode into his study and began to pace like a caged lion.
He was never more relieved than when Dr. Farthingale arrived to check up on Berry. Gideon was leaping out of his skin to hear what the doctor had to say after he had seen her and spoken with the midwife.
“She’s fine. All is going smoothly. I’ll stay around for a cup of tea, if you’re offering.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll have Melton bring refreshments in here.” They had brought over all of Berry’s staff, who’d quickly adapted to their new home. One would never know that Melton or Mrs. Bolton had spent an entire lifetime next door.
Still, it had to feel a little odd to them that new servants were now walking the halls they had been walking for over two decades.
Well, change was good…wasn’t it?
Bonham and Suzanna were very happy in Berry’s old home. Berry did not seem to miss it very much, but Gideon supposed it helped that she and Suzanna had a close friendship to the point she could stop by her old home any time she wished.
Horace, of course, had come with him from the Musket Club and continued his duties as valet in his home on Duchess Square. Gideon was a little surprised by how easily Horace had managed to fit in, because the lad was a decidedly odd duck. But Berry’s staff embraced him warmly.
Only Mrs. Garland was pensioned off, and that was done shortly after Gideon and Berry married. She was now residing in a cottage outside of Oxford and being well cared for by her sister.
“Doctor, it’s been hours since Berry went into labor,” he said after they had finished their tea. His breaths were ragged and uneven, and his hands were shaking because he truly was terrified something might go wrong.
Dr. Farthingale regarded him calmly. “Everything has been proceeding normally. I would have told you if she were in any distress.”
Gideon buried his face in his hands. “I cannot lose her.”
“You won’t.”
The doctor had just finished reassuring him when Gideon heard the midwife shout for them. Well, she had called out only for the doctor. But Gideon had no intention of being left behind. No two beings ever moved faster as they tore up the stairs to his and Berry’s bedchamber.
Gideon expected to be kicked out shortly, but there was no way he was not going see Berry for himself and make certain everything possible was being done for her.
He ran straight to her side while the doctor went immediately to the bundle in the midwife’s arms. “She isn’t breathing,” she whispered, but he and Berry heard her.
Gideon took Berry’s hand and held it gently. “She’s stubborn, just like her father, and did not want to come out of her comfortable abode yet.”
Berry’s eyes were wide with worry and she looked exhausted.
“That’s right,” Dr. Farthingale said with confidence, giving the baby a few light taps. “Just a stubborn little beauty. Aren’t you? She just needs a little…nudge. And there we go.”
They heard a gurgle or two, and then the baby let out a healthy but indignant cry.
Gideon hugged Berry, both of them relieved.
“Thank goodness,” she said tearfully.
Gideon felt his own tears welling up.
“Would you like to hold your daughter?” the doctor asked him.
He nodded, drying his eyes off on his sleeve.
When had he ever cried?
Well, perhaps when Archie was born, because that was another time when he feared losing Berry. In truth, he could not imagine his life without her, for she was his heart and the very soul of their family.
“Looks like Archie was right. We have a girl, my love. Yes, doctor. I’ll take her.”
He settled on the bed beside Berry and leaned closer so that she could see their daughter, who was mostly bald but had a soft tuft of strawberry-blonde hair atop her head.
“Our daughter, our Lucy,” he murmured.
“She’s beautiful, Gideon.”
He laughed and gazed upon the squashed little face that was a deep purplish-red from crying. “I think you are looking at her through the blurred lens of a mother.”